This weekend, my 14-month-old, Monroe, had a terrible accident. I'd just finished taking out the recycling, and he and his brothers were playing. I heard glass bumping against glass. Strange, I thought, I got it all, didn't I? A moment later, a sound of broken glass, then my oldest son yelling, then screams. Really, really serious screams. Then there was blood. Lots, and lots of blood.

One 911 call and an ambulance ride later, I was thanking all applicable heavenly bodies that, firstly, the enormous gaping cut to his eyelid was not life- or vision-threatening and second, that I had two weeks left of health care insurance. I'm leaving full-time employment to do the freelance thing, and along with it will go my full complement of benefits. I had considered going without for a few months, but this weekend's excitement and the realization that I have three of these danger-prone little boys has me decided to buy emergency health insurance, that will pay out for extreme costs. I'll pay out-of-pocket for regular well-baby visits and my own extremely rare visits to the doctor.

And then I'll be taking the Great American Risk along with dozens of my friends and millions of other Americans: gambling that my kids' health needs aren't more than a $100 here and there. I can't really afford the enormous cost of individual health insurance for my family; depending on the plan the cost starts at $400 a month and skyrocket from there. $5,000 a year plus I have to pay $1,500 to $5,000 deductible? No way man. I'm rolling the dice, hoping my family doesn't end up with any life-threatening diseases, hoping I don't get pregnant again. Forget penny stocks or mortgage-backed securities; the stakes are way higher here in the living rooms and basements of the Regular American. I'd love to hear from other freelancers and part-time parents out there: what have you done?

When Jenna, my 13-year-old second cousin by marriage, had her bat mitzvah, her Jewish coming-of-age ceremony, earlier this month, she asked that friends and relatives donate to two charities rather than bring gifts.

Jenna chose Project A.L.S. because her paternal grandfather recently died from the fatal neuromuscular disorder, also known as Lou Gehrig's Disease. She also selected Million Trees NYC because, as a devoted environmentalist, she wanted to improve the city of her birth. It turns out that Jenna is not alone among her age group in putting charity before that cool iPod or Wii.

According to Claire Gaudiani of the Heyman Center for Philanthropy and Fundraising at New York University, today's young people contribute whatever they can to their favorite causes earlier, more consistently and in more imaginative ways than their grandparents did. And of the $300 billion-plus donated last year, more and more is going to charities that focus on international affairs and the environment, according to Giving USA.

I hope this trend continues even as the economy skids into a recession and fears about our families' futures overtake everything else. An international outlook, an awareness of other cultures and societies, is not only healthy but necessary in today's global economy. I certainly plan to encourage my daughter to follow Jenna's example when the time comes for her bat mitzvah. Meanwhile, our family will continue to donate money to our college alma maters, to Housing Works, and Goodwill.

It's been scary reading the headlines. It's been scarier reading my family's investment reports from Fidelity. A nice little nest egg that my husband's parents diligently built up through the course of his lifetime has lost 20% of its value in 2008 alone. Thankfully, we own our apartment and are mortgage-free so we are, in some ways, better off than most these days. Just two years ago, we too had an adjustable mortgage but luckily paid that off before the seven-year deadline. I also paid off my college loans before I married, and we try to live within our means. I still wear my pregnancy jeans three years after my daughter's birth because they're in good shape.

But that doesn't mean we don't worry about the future. My husband and I both work in print journalism, which, if you read the stories, is a dying industry. I haven't had a cost of living raise in six years. We are also raising our daughter in Manhattan, one of the most expensive cities in the world. With more and more families staying in the Big Apple, competition for spots at good public schools is tough and will only get tougher when she reaches kindergarten age. And the idea of private school is frankly nightmare-inducing. We're talking some $30,000 a year.

So what to do? My brother's friend, a financial adviser in New York State, says people like us, those in their late 30s with two modest incomes and little debt, should sit tight and ride things out. In fact, he says that now is the time to invest in mutual funds and bond funds that provide quarterly dividends. These dividends can be used to buy more shares at today's basement prices. When the market rebounds and share prices go up, we will have made money. He also recommends participating in our employers' 401K plans, opening or putting money into our IRAs and setting up an education fund for our daughter. "Buy low, sell high, those are the basics," he adds. "Pulling your money out now means you'll suffer losses. And too often, people wait too long to get back into the market and lose out on the gains when the market does come back."

Mortgage backed derivatives. Credit default swaps. LIBOR. Leverage. The credit crisis now unfolding in sickening shades of desperation is complex, and difficult for even adults to understand (politicians in particular, apparently). But what do kids think? I asked my 11-year-old daughter Anna what she thought of the current situation.

Do you understand what's going on in the financial markets today?
No, but it sounds really scary. Ms. Harper, my teacher, says the banks crashed or something. And the prices of houses got too high and now nobody's buying anything.

Does it worry you?
Mom says we're going to be hurt down the road, so I'm kind of scared.

Why?
I'm scared what the effect is. I'm scared Mom might lose her job. And I'm scared because America is getting really bad. It's in debt and we're in a war. It's like the world is getting really bad.

What's the worst that could happen to you?
We wouldn't really have enough money for stuff. Food, stuff, clothes, and we'd have to get all our money from Daddy, and then he'd lose his job. And then we'd live on the streets or something. And I'm not just saying that to sound immature.

What do you think they should do about it?
Not spend so much money on this war in Iraq. Spend more money on hospitals and stuff. Maybe lower the prices of houses. And food. Mom's all like, "$4.50 for a bag of chips!?"

Do you think all of this will affect you when you're a grown up?
If it passes, I'll just say to my kids, when I was young, there was like another Great Depression, but then we got over it. But it colleges are too expensive then I'll have to go to a cheaper college or do something else. I'd learn a trade.

My oldest daughter stepped off the school bus yesterday and happily informed me that the Tooth Fairy would be making a visit.

It's the fifth such visit the Tooth Fairy has made to our house in the last year, and I'm constantly trying to figure out the going rate for a lost tooth these days.

The first time my daughter lost a tooth, I know my wife and I were about as excited as she was. I think we gave her something like $7.86, which is probably $7 more than I received when I was a kid. Since then, it's kind of gone up and down, usually around $5. For this last one, maybe due to all of the tough financial goings-on in the news, my wife slipped $2 under my daughter's pillow. "What can you buy with $2?" asked my six-year-old. "Can you buy a Junie B. Jones book?"

Our 3-year-old daughter has a very special life. I say that because the facts show that children who play outdoors have healthier, happier lives, and we apply that truth to her lifestyle. Our daughter knows what the rain feels like on her face. She knows how a caterpillar tickles as it crawls on her hand. She knows that trees have roots which go deep into the soil, and that lawns have thistles which can get stuck into little bare feet. She has watched birds in flight and has marveled at their joyous sounds. She plays with sticks and rocks, grass and sand, mud and worms.

Not all children are as lucky as our little girl. Many children don't have adequate opportunities to physically experience the world of nature they live in. However, there's a movement, which began gaining momentum around 2005, which aims at reconnecting children with the fundamentals of a natural world which their parents and grandparents knew so well.

The Leave No Child Inside movement is gaining new exposure, revelation and respect. It recognizes the fact that we are natural beings, and that we all need to remain mentally and physically connected to our natural world. Author Richard Louv, provided national exposure to the concept with his immensely popular book, Last Child in the Woods. It was he who originated the term: Nature Deficit Disorder.

The U.S. Mint is officially the P.T. Barnum of currency. It's addicted to showmanship. Yesterday, in a heartwarmingly goofy ceremony at Washington DC's Lincoln Memorial, an actor dressed as Abe unveiled its four new designs for the penny, all of which will be released in 2009 to commemorate the 200th birthday of the put-upon Civil War president. They're just the latest pocket party favors for our ongoing patriotic fervor.

While Lincoln will appear as usual on one side (facing right, the only president to do so on our circulating coins), the flip side will depict four Abe-ish icons issued in rotation: a log cabin inscribed with his birth year, an image of Lincoln the rail splitter studying on a log, a portrait of the young legislator in front of Illinois' state capitol, and a shot of the U.S. Capitol under construction as it was when he was our troubled country's leader.

But as historian James W. Leowen investigated in his 1999 book Lies Across America, the log cabin is a fake. That right. The cabin pawned off on the public as the one Lincoln was born in, and the one that will be engraved on our money, was built in 1895, 30 years after Abe's death, as a tourist draw.

For parents and children alike, the name Scholastic is a household word. It means books and book clubs, book fairs, summer reading. It is - and certainly intends to be - a widely trusted name in children's publishing. According to the New York Times today, Scholastic will "no longer include chapter books based on the overtly sexy Bratz dolls in any of its school book clubs or fairs this year."

Scholastic books and brochures arrive mainly through the public schools. This leads many parents to expect that these books are good - or at least okay - reading for their children. We would like to think that a children's publisher, particularly Scholastic, would be committed not only to its sales numbers but also to its customers. Think again.

Scholastic pulled flyers for book fair titles like "L'il Bratz: Dancin' Divas" and "L'il Bratz: Catwalk Cuties" only after an eighteen-month fight by Boston-based Campaign for a Commercial-Free Childhood. Judy Newman, president of Scholastic Book Clubs, met with a representative from the Campaign earlier this year and said, "I can't be directed by anyone's special interest. That would almost be censorship."

As a writer, mother, children's therapist and constant reader, I consider myself at least reasonably well-informed on the topic of children's books.

I'm going to begin by stating, for the record, that I am strenuously opposed to racial, social, or economic profiling. That having been said, I couldn't help but smile when I read about how the great state of Tennessee has chosen to deal with its deadbeat dads.

After the impressive success of its Deadbeat Parents Guide (and unofficial dating website), the Volunteer State has decided to go for the throat: attacking 20,000 fathers who are more than $500 in arrears in child support payments and more than 90 days overdue, the state is threatening to revoke their hunting and fishing permits.

I don't know the numbers on rural versus urban deadbeat dads, nor do I know how much of a correspondence there is between hunting and child abandonment. Furthermore, while the occasional deer or trout probably adds a lot to the dinner table, I don't imagine that most deadbeat dads are going to be going hungry because of this particular program. What I do know, though, is that a father's occasional day on the lake or afternoon spent drinking beer and shooting at wildlife is an ingrained part of the national mythology. I can't help but wonder if the next step in Tennessee's battle against its deadbeat dads involves the seizure of remote controls and attacks upon unlicensed barca-loungers.

Bruce Watson is a freelance writer, blogger, and all-around cheapskate. He does, admittedly, love the taste of fresh venison. Luckily, his buddy who hunts is also happily married.

In 27 months without a car, I have saved thousands of dollars and become an entirely new person; happier, more balanced, and much more muscular. Though I spent decades of my life in love with the American car culture, and then happened into the decision to give it up without much forethought, I've learned that owning a car is highly over-rated. I'll tell you my story.

In the year 2000, I was young, sort of rich, and definitely single. Living in Northern Virginia and working in management for a dotcom startup I'd helped get off the ground, I was spoiled and spendthrift. I bought a brand-new Mercedes ML320.

Cut to June 2006. I'd finally paid the Mercedes off, but myriad mechanical issues (note to self: don't buy German cars manufactured in the American south), insurance and gas were costing me $300-500 a month. I had two little boys and an under-employed husband. Living in Portland, Oregon, I was becoming more and more concerned about our impact on the environment every day. Then I got a flat tire; it was unfixable, I'd have to replace all four tires to the tune of $650 (for the cheapie version).

Don't miss the rest of our series on Overrated people, places and things!

I parked the Mercedes, still rocking its "donut" spare tire, let the insurance expire, bought some bus tickets and fixed up my mountain bike.

I guess pipe dreams can come true, too. This afternoon, in a balloon-smothered luncheon at New York City's Times Square, Disney announced its big marketing push for 2009, and it has the Mouse doing something it almost never does. It's letting people into its parks for free.

The gist of its new ad campaign (mark your big anniversary or birthday with a "celebration vacation" at Walt Disney World or Disneyland) is nothing spectacular. But the centerpiece of the promotion is noteworthy: During 2009, you can get into its parks for free on your birthday.

And like Disney's previous push, the Year of a Million Dreams, implementing it won't cost the company much in the way of infrastructure. Next month at Disneyland, Disney property Miley Cyrus (pictured, with generous rodent) will have a 16th birthday party to help kick things off (she'll give the best present: the gift of P.R).

Mind you, this is a company that starts charging children the "adult" price at age 10, and at Walt Disney World in Florida, that freebie can mean a $75 savings on a one-day pass (Disneyland in California is $69). For kids under 10, the savings will be $63 in Florida and $59 in Anaheim. Disney's parks always did give a few extra gimmes to guests of all ages on their birthdays, including self-congratulatory buttons, balloons, and oozier-than-usual smiles from "cast members." But Disney's parks are notorious for rarely discounting tickets to the general public, and it almost never gives passes away. This economy, though, is seeing lots of stalwarts cave.

The children who came to Adelaide's 6th birthday party didn't bring her any presents. It's a party that she'll never forget.

What the children who joined her, and her 3-year-old brother Calvin, brought to the party were cans of dog and cat food, old tennis balls, blankets, flea collars, and pig's ears. That's because in lieu of presents for herself, Addie Gardiner asked her guests to bring donations for the cats and dogs of the town where she and her family spend their summers, Falmouth, MA. The children filled three 30 gallon bins with their gifts.

The idea came from a magazine article that their mother Patti Gardiner had read. It was about a child who had a party for the benefit of her furry friends. Patti, recently retired from a 23-year career with Delta Airlines (and hence had a bit of time for creativity) suggested the idea to Addie. Three year old Calvin's birthday is close to his sister's, he liked the idea too ,and so a joint birthday party to benefit the dogs and cats of Falmouth was born.

It started as an innocent-seeming question on my "sustainable living on a budget" listserv. A mama wanted ideas for sustainable party favors for her four-year-old's birthday party.

I was a little surprised that the first several answers were rather unoriginal but sweet ideas: have guests bring used toys or books to exchange; involve children in making something to take home (soap was the rather ambitious suggestion); or painted terra-cotta pots with little plants. Finally someone offered timidly, "you could go without the favors!"

Exactly. How is setting a cultural standard of buying rather useless items for other children to take home from a party you are throwing sustainable? Even if these items are good for the earth, or creative or lovingly-made, they still involve expense and work. Shouldn't a party simply be about celebration, not about things?

In my opinion, sustainability should be, not just about the environmental impact of something, but also the financial and societal impact. If everyone in a society stops offering favors and purchasing forgettable doodads for birthdays and holidays, it would stop being an expectation. Instead of buying a gift for friends' birthdays, my children make cards or help me sew stuffed things. For parties we host, I offer homemade cupcakes and delicious food and my hospitality and never offer favors. While I can't say I save a lot of money -- it's not that favors and goody bags are expensive -- I imagine that the impact of my decision is to quietly spread my Better Way.

Sometimes doing nothing at all is the most sustainable choice of all.

In the, "old days" if you were a teenager, particularly in a small town, the cool thing to do was to drive around. What was once relatively inexpensive recreation no longer is so although "riding in cars with boys" will always have its allure, there is likely to be less of it.

For parents who prefer it when their kids stay home, rec rooms can be a good option. "The rec room, once a wood-paneled corner of the basement with a dumpy couch and a TV with rabbit ears is enjoying a revival in more upscale form"

It's possible that the faltering economy will help reverse two decades of the frantic activity that middle and upper class Americans have recently referred to as "childhood." As budgets tighten, over-scheduled children and teenagers may actually be spending some time at home. Down time, creative time.

Kimberly Stevens' September 14th article, above, describes the upscale edition of the "low and loungy" rec room trend. This is the "movie theater" version outfitted from CB2 and Pottery Barn's PBTeen line, which includes items like a lounge chair with a jack for an iPod or videogame system (the $399 iChair).

If you have more money than brains, you may want to go for broke refurbishing the rec room. Alternatively, help the kids figure it out themselves. This is a creative project of the highest magnitude involving everything from activity options and furnishings to house rules. It can be done on a budget (with recycled furnishings) and doesn't require a 100-inch screen or a $399 chair.

Higher gas prices, low-paying jobs, and increasing school expenses has led teenagers to slow down their shopping. Long considered "recession-proof" spenders due to their discretionary income, many have had to confront the impact of a slowing economy. According to a survey conducted by BIGresearch in July, 60% of teenagers said they had become more frugal in the last six months--compared with only 50 percent of adults.

Even the usual fall bump in sales when college and high school kids go back to school didn't happen this year. Piper Jaffray released their semi-annual survey of teens that said that teen spending on fashion was down a whopping 20 percent from a year earlier.

This might be an unexpected benefit to the slow economy: parents saying "No." Rather than handing cash to over-indulged children, parents are looking at their budgets and setting limits. They are insisting that kids look for bargains and evaluate whether they really "need" something. This is actually very good training, because this is how the world really works.